The Name of the Sky
Let Sleeping Gods Lie, Act 2: The Other Side, Conclusion part 1.
Continued from The Waihatu. Catch up on all the stories from Act1: An Unusual Brain here.
Foreword
Well, here we are at the conclusion of Act 2. Change. That is what Act 2 has been about. Little is left of who Kwesi once was before he was tricked and caught by Anansi. Abraham was a nine-year-old boy. Now? An ancient creature, floating in the dark emptiness among the old gods, searching for a way back into the stream of creation, clinging to what memories of a mortal life he can, after everything he has seen; all he has suffered.
Ella has left our world and chosen another. She still looks out for her little brother though. That’s the other thing Act 2 is about, things change, but some things don’t. Cliff may be an immortal creature of immense power, but he is still Aidan’s father. Perhaps he is more of a father now than he has ever been. Heather is broken, but still, she walks on, ever a steadfast friend and a fierce mother. Edie’s love for her children remains, as does her pain deep inside where the love of her husband used to be, where it is still, a flickering light in the empty, grey wilderness of her heart.
I have absolutely loved sharing Let Sleeping Gods Lie, Act 2 : The Other Side with you. Here is the conclusion presented in two parts. The first is presented here, the second in the epilogue. I hope you enjoy The Name of the Sky.
“Kwesi?”
“Do you not recognise your own brother, Abena?”
“Of course, I recognise you, Kwesi.” Abena stared at her other half, still the teenage boy she had lost, so long ago.
“How are you here?”
“That, sister is a very long story, but we have little time if we are to help Abraham.”
“How? How do you know about Abraham? Do you know where he is, Kwesi? Where is my son, Kwesi? Where?”
“He is in a place where only the great ones can go. I cannot follow him there, but I know of someone who can.”
“Great ones? What place? What are you talking about, Kwesi?”
“Patience, Abena. Let me show you.” Kwesi reached out his hand to his little sister (he always thought of himself as older but neither he nor his twin sister actually knew who came out first) and looked at her expectantly.
Abena quieted her hundred questions and nodded briskly.
Kwesi took Abena by the hand and stepped through the tunnel of shining darkness.
“You are a long way from home, little lion.”
Kwesi dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
“Great one, he who names, he who watches over all, forgive us, we come only to ask your help-”
“Oh get up, child. I know why you are here. Abraham and I are old friends.”
Karuthkahn sat in a great chair facing away from the chamber where Kwesi and Abena stood. He gazed at an enormous, fractured mirror. Some fragments showed the chamber behind, others were windows into different places, some more different than others. He beckoned Kwesi forward impatiently.
“You will not survive here long, children, do not look at the mirror and speak quickly.”
Edie stepped forward. “I’m Abraham’s mother. Are you the one who would speak to me, before? Before everything changed?
“No.”
“Can you help my children ?”
“I have done what I can. I see now that you do not yet know the part you will play. That you have already played.”
“What is it with you people and riddles! Where are my children?”
“Ella is safe and well. You will see her soon. But Abraham is out of your reach.”
“You clearly don’t have children. There is nowhere he can go that I will not follow.”
Karuthkahn turned and looked down at the children behind his throne; the mirror turned to black.
Abena felt the weight of his gaze fall on her like a mountain. As he stood, she shrank back. Kwesi put his face on the floor, arms outstretched in fearful supplication. Abena stumbled and fell backward down the stairs. Blood slowly trickled from her nose and ears.
“You do not know what you ask, girl. I was there when your universe took its first breath. I held it in my arms as if it were my own child. I played with the moons of Jupiter and I taught your earth her orbit and guided your sun on his first circuit of the sky. I coaxed the clouds to drop their rain and carried the lightning until she knew the path she must take.”
Abena could not stand or lift her head, she could feel her death in the back of her mind.
“But it could be that you are right.” Karut paused in thought. ‘Perhaps it is your fate, dark as it is. I thought to save you from it, but I see now there is no turning back your mother’s heart.”
Abena saw the universe then; the name of the sky and she wept at the knowledge.
‘Abena, it is time to make your choice. Your final choice. Hold your purpose in your mind and it will be done. But remember it may not be what you expect and will not be what you desire. But if you truly want to help your son set your face now, for there is no return from where you go. You will never walk again in the mortal realm but will haunt the dreams of the living and the dead — a spectre of a forgotten future; a buried past. You will see everything but know nothing. You shall be everywhere but shall go nowhere. And only truth shall remain.’
Abena screamed at the pain as the fabric of reality warped and stretched before her eyes. Her body was torn and shredded like cloth, her mind fractured into a million facets, disappearing one after another. Thoughts, memories, faces, voices faded and vanished until she was only one thing: one thought.
Abraham.
I must help Abraham.
© 2022, Isaac Asamoah. All rights reserved.
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